


Shattering

by emerald1963



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Final Haikyuu Quest, Angst, Angst? In MY AO3? It's more likely than you think, Final Haikyuu Quest, M/M, Oikawa is fucked up and Iwaizumi is fed up, look i'm sorry okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald1963/pseuds/emerald1963
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oikawa. This has to stop."<br/>"What does?"<br/>"This. How you're ruling, the dark magic, the raids, all of it. You're going too far."</p>
<p>Oikawa is the Demon King, and his reign of terror grows by the day. Iwaizumi can only ignore the destruction he's causing for so long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattering

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my amazing QP Theresa, the Oikawa to my Iwaizumi and an overall incredible person. Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy the angst!

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi’s tone is harsh, heavy. The word thuds into the silence between them like the sword of a dying man landing point-first in the mud.

Oikawa turns to look at Iwaizumi, his hands pausing in the middle of polishing his blade after another successful raid. One brow arches quizzically. “What is it, Iwa-chan?”

“This has to stop.”

Now both eyebrows are raised in honest confusion. “What does?” He takes in his position, lounging on the throne in his private quarters, one leg thrown over the side, blade held loosely between his hands. There can’t possibly be anything objectionable about that, although Iwa-chan has complained before about him having a throne in his own private rooms where no one will even see it except the two of them. Iwa-chan can be a grump that way. He just doesn’t understand how good it feels to have a constant reminder of everything they’ve earned for themselves, Oikawa thinks long-sufferingly.

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa like he’s an idiot, as usual, but it’s somehow more than that. There’s something hollow in it, despairing, and the anger flares sharper and brighter than usual in his diamond-hard eyes. “This. How you’re ruling, the dark magic, the raids, all of it. You’re going too far.”

That strikes a nerve in Oikawa- he sits up straighter in his throne, tossing his sword carelessly to the side. “Do you have a problem with the way I’m dealing with _my_ kingdom?” He puts a slight emphasis on the _my_. Iwaizumi’s been at his side all along, helping him rise to power, but Oikawa’s the only king here. The power is fundamentally his, and he can use it as he chooses. He finds himself thinking, as he has been more and more recently, that maybe Iwaizumi should know his place. He’s Oikawa’s trustworthy second-in-command, best friend, lover. Once, he’d considered him his conscience as well, but… Oikawa’s grown to learn that conscience has no place in ruling. Morals can’t compete against the sheer heady weight of power. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to have figured that out yet. He keeps trying, pushing back against every move Oikawa makes to consolidate his power and stretch into the neighboring kingdoms. Maybe Oikawa needs to teach him that in the end, this is Oikawa’s kingdom, and whatever Iwaizumi wants, he doesn’t rule it.

“Idiot.” Iwaizumi’s tone is bitter. In his decades of knowing the other man, Oikawa’s grown used to the love underlying every insult, undercutting them, turning them friendly. Today, it’s not there, and Oikawa can’t help flinching. “Anyone would have a problem with this. Every time you go out on a skirmish, it gets worse. Do you even look at yourself? Do you know what you did today? You killed _children_ , Oikawa. Practically babies, who haven’t done a damn thing wrong in their lives, and you just fucking- like it was _nothing_.” His voice is trembling by the time he cuts himself off, and his hands have tightened into fists, balling up his silk tunic. 

The memory comes back to Oikawa, a little dim through the haze of bloodlust. He shrugs, trying not to sound overly defensive. “They would have carried the word to others. We’d have more resistance from the next town we annex.”

Iwaizumi lets loose a harsh bark of laughter, devoid of humor. “Annex? Oikawa, we’re not annexing these towns. We’re slaughtering them. At least call it what it is instead of dressing it up in fancy excuses.” His eyes narrow, and tension simmers through the room. “You’re committing murder almost daily now. And you love it.” Oikawa opens his mouth to protest, but Iwaizumi cuts him off. “Don’t even try to lie. I saw the look on your face today. You were _laughing_.”

Oikawa blinks, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to recall it. Maybe he had been laughing, in the exhilaration of the battlefield. Still, he stubbornly tells himself, it was justified. The town they’d taken today had acres upon acres of fertile farmland- farmers from their own kingdom can move in, begin to settle. The corpses might make good fertilizer, he thinks to himself, and begins to laugh again at the absurdity of the image, high and brittle and hot. It’s the kind of laugh that could shatter at any moment.

Iwaizumi’s face shatters first, though. The anger vanishes, replaced by something Oikawa can only describe as anguish. Oikawa’s laughter dies away and his mind clears, focusing on one fact: he’s hurt Iwa-chan. His mouth opens, ready for an apology, something to plaster over the hurt spot and make the pain go away for a little while, maybe a promise to be more cautious in his raids (although who knows if he’ll follow it? The battlefield’s a busy place after all, where promises are broken as easily as they’re made, it’ll barely even be his fault), but Iwaizumi’s speaking first. “Look at you, Tooru.” Oikawa flinches again at the use of his first name- it’s meant to be whispered into the pillow late at night, in between loving caresses. It feels strange here, in this moment, in this voice. “You’re laughing. You killed people, and you’re laughing about it. What happened to you? What happened to us? Remember when we were younger and we used to lie in the grass at night and talk about what would happen when you were king and I was your best knight? Is this what you pictured?” His voice has raised to a near-shout, and he’s gesturing wildly, like he wants to punch the sense of his words into Oikawa. “They’re calling you the Demon King now, and you know what? It’s a title you deserve!”

Oikawa’s response is acidic as he gestures at himself. His guilt at having hurt Iwa-chan is melting away, replaced by cold fury. “They think I’m a demon, hmm? What do you think tipped them off, Iwa-chan? Was it the horns?”

“It’s not just what you look like, it’s what you do!” There’s a vein popping in Iwaizumi’s forehead- Oikawa can barely remember the last time he saw the other man this angry. “You’re destroying people and you’re going to destroy your own subjects too, because you’re more interested in gaining power than in actually ruling and taking care of the people you’re bound to protect! And you don’t even care, because the pain’s part of the fun for you now, isn’t it?”

How _dare_ Iwaizumi question him like this? These accusations are ridiculous, unfounded- well, maybe there’s some sense to them, but can’t he rule the way he wants? It is his kingdom, no matter how important Iwaizumi is trying to make himself in the way it’s run, and it’s perfectly within his rights to maximize his power if that’s what he wants to do. “Iwaizumi,” he says, voice low and cold. “Stop being ridiculous. Sometimes I think you’re too soft-hearted. Why are you focusing on the collateral damage when I’ve gained so much for us? Think about where I’ve taken you, from worthless peasant to second-in-command, lover of the most powerful man in the world. Do you really want to question the one who brought you there?” 

Iwaizumi reels backwards like he’s been slapped. “You brought me here? Do you really think everything we created together was all your doing? And you’re just going to toss me aside like some broken toy if I don’t say exactly what you want me to?” Oikawa can see one of his cheeks hollow as he bites the inside of it hard- trying to keep himself under control, probably. Iwa-chan always did have a temper.

Oikawa bites down on his own lip hard, trying to clear his mind. Thoughts are coiling hot and heavy inside him, thoughts with an edge of sick, black wrongness, and he feels like he’s losing his way in them. He’s barely sure what he’s saying anymore. It’s not as if he doesn’t care about Iwaizumi- if the other man weren’t around, he’d miss him so much that it’d hurt to breathe. Memories flicker across his mind, decades of Iwaizumi’s support and strength and warmth. “Iwa-chan, no, I- I only meant-” he trails off, hands clutching at the arms of his throne for support as he tries to think of an excuse. What had he meant, other than that he owns Iwaizumi and can break him down in an instant? Is that really how he thinks of his love for Iwaizumi, as some kind of reward conditional on Iwaizumi’s unquestioning obedience? He squirms a little in his seat, mind taking him places he doesn’t really want to go.

“Where did we go so wrong?” Iwaizumi’s voice is quiet now, hollow. “Should I have tried harder to stop you? I’ve tried and tried, every step of the way, to warn you that you might end up a tyrant… You used to listen… But you don’t _listen_ to me anymore, Tooru, you keep making these dumb destructive decisions and nothing I can say will change your mind, because you won’t fucking _see_ where you’re going to end up! What was I supposed to do?”

So maybe Iwaizumi has a point, that Oikawa doesn’t listen to him anymore, that the path he’s following is more bloodstained than Iwaizumi would like. But that doesn’t give him the right to question Oikawa like this. He’s insulting everything Oikawa’s worked tirelessly to build up. Oikawa dimly remembers how in the past it’s always been Iwaizumi who’s pulled him back from the brink of bad decisions, brought him back to himself when he strayed too far from his path. But why should it be like that now? He’s strong now, stronger than ever. He’s grown, realized how pointless it was to value the lives of a few worthless humans over his own goals, and Iwaizumi has stayed the same. He keeps trying to pull him back to a path Oikawa doesn’t even want to walk anymore, an uninteresting path with no reward at the end of it other than getting to say “Yes, but I was a good person.” What’s the point of being a good person if you can win instead? Oikawa’s not sure why he ever saw it.

Oikawa hisses his next words through his teeth. His moment of self-examination is long gone, ripped out of memory by his hurt pride, anger flaring up in its place. “You couldn’t have done anything, Iwaizumi. I’m making my own choices now, not letting an over-idealistic, idiotic… white knight of a man tell me how to run my own life. It’s working out great, haven’t you noticed?” He laughs, not that anything’s particularly funny. “My kingdom’s growing every day, and who cares about a little collateral damage? Soon I’ll rule the whole world. What does blood matter if I have that in front of me?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes look ancient. “I don’t even know who you are anymore,” he whispers. “You turned into a monster when I wasn’t looking.”

Oikawa hears the phrase and his mind skips back years- they’re both seven, and-

_The little boy sits under a tree, arms wrapped around his legs and chin pillowed on his knees, gaze tracking the movements of the village children playing at the edge of the forest. His horns, even though they’re still immature stubs, feel heavy on his head. He wonders if he could cut them off, sand them off maybe, how long it would take, if it would hurt. If then he’d be normal. If maybe he could play with the other children, pretend he wasn’t a demon for a little while. If he could have friends._

_The shrieks and giggles of the village children draw nearer to him, until suddenly a ball rolls into his clearing and he hears a yell of “Iwaizumi-kun, go get it!” A boy breaks through the underbrush and Oikawa shrinks back against his tree, tries to make himself unnoticeable. But the other boy is too observant, and green eyes meet red for the first time._

_“Who’re you?” the boy asks, eyes curious._

_Oikawa’s first attempt at saying anything comes out as just air, too startled at being addressed to form words correctly. “I-I’m Oikawa Tooru,” is the fruit of his second try._

_“Iwaizumi Hajime. Want to come play?” The other boy holds out a hand to pull him up and out of his solitary spot._

_Again, Oikawa’s too startled to speak- at first he can only shake his head. “I can’t.” He looks away and down. “I’m not like you. The other kids say I’m a monster. Can’t you tell?” He gestures vaguely in the direction of his horns, too ashamed to even point directly at them._

_Iwaizumi Hajime wrinkles his nose, then reaches out to touch one of the horns. Oikawa jumps at the feel of his hand, warm even for the hot summer day. “You don’t seem like a monster to me,” he says matter-of-factly. “Anyway, bein’ a monster’s about what you do, isn’t it? Even if you maybe look like a monster, if you do good things then it’s all okay.” He reaches out to Oikawa’s hand again, and Oikawa’s tiny heart thrums in his chest. “C’mon, we can play by ourselves if the others don’t wanna play with you.” The ball lies forgotten in a corner of the clearing; Iwaizumi’s attention is pinned to Oikawa, and his smile shines brighter than the dappled sunlight._

_Oikawa takes his hand._

_“You don’t seem like a monster to me.”_

_“You turned into a monster when I wasn’t looking.”_

 

The twin sets of words, one from long ago and one achingly new, sear through his veins, entwining, turning his blood to poison. Blind with rage and soul-deep hurt, he lashes out the best way he can. 

Vines of burning red light wrap around Iwaizumi’s wrist, ankles, throat, searing him where they touch, pulling him into the air in front of the throne where Oikawa sits. He dangles there, pain and shock written on his face, anger slowly dawning. They’ve fought thousands of times, from tiny venomless squabbles to all-out brawls, but the one thing Oikawa’s never done is use his magic on Iwaizumi. It had always felt wrong, almost disgraceful. Iwaizumi doesn’t have magic; it’s all too easy to take him out, put him at Oikawa’s mercy. It’s a line Oikawa thought he’d never cross.

Well, it’s crossed now.

“You are _not_ allowed to call me that,” Oikawa snarls. The vines tighten, biting into Iwaizumi’s flesh. Oikawa can see him wriggling, trying to wrench himself out of his bonds, starting to struggle for breath. A fly in a spiderweb. It might bother Oikawa if not for the wave of pure, vicious anger washing over him, clouding his thoughts and vision in a haze as red as his irises. “No one is allowed to call me that, _ever again_.” Another rope of magic flies out like a whip to punctuate his last two words, slicing red lines across both of Iwaizumi’s cheeks.

Iwaizumi’s voice is fierce, furious, even though it’s half-strangled. “So, what, you’re going to kill me for telling you the truth?” He gathers up his energy and spits on the ground, contemptuous. “Do it, then. Do it and prove me right. What are you waiting for?” His forest-green eyes bore into Oikawa’s red ones, and something in his gaze is terrifying, broken. Oikawa really has gone too far this time.

Oikawa stills. It’d be so easy. It _should_ be easy. He doesn’t even need to exert any more power than he already has- just tighten the cord around Iwaizumi’s neck, even a fraction, and he’ll suffocate. Oikawa will be free of his anger and criticism, his nagging and his constant _worry_ and _care_ and _disappointment…_

And he’ll lose everything else too, everything he’s ever wanted. What is he thinking? He _loves_ Iwaizumi, so why is Iwaizumi dangling at the end of his ropes like this, inches from death? Oikawa doesn’t understand anything anymore, pride and hurt and love and bloodlust and anger all fighting to control him. The inside of his mind is much too loud, and he’s not sure where to go. He can’t even pick his own voice out of the clamor in his head. The magic vanishes as suddenly as it appeared, and Iwaizumi falls to the ground in a heap like a puppet whose strings have been cut. “Iwa-chan…” His voice is small, lost. He doesn’t know how to continue the sentence. There’s nowhere for it to go.

Iwaizumi stands and brushes himself off. There are angry red lines carved into his skin wherever the vines touched him. He doesn’t look at Oikawa. “I’m leaving.”

“I… what?” Oikawa falters for an instant. _Iwa-chan is leaving._ Even the shrieking voices in his head fall silent at that. Somehow, despite all his furious words, Oikawa had never expected this. Even after trying to kill him, he’d never expected him to just… _go._ Iwa-chan is a constant in his life. He’s always by his side, and he’s the most persistent person Oikawa’s ever met. He’s never given up on anything he’s tried. 

...Is he giving up on Oikawa?

“I’m leaving, I said.” Iwaizumi turns away, voice steady. “I can’t help you like this. You’re not going to listen, but I can’t let you do this. I have to find another way.”

Oikawa stares at Iwaizumi’s back, watching his strong shoulders tremble slightly. Two sets of words race through his mind, one disdainful, one pleading. He’s about to open his mouth to beg Iwaizumi not to do this, say he’ll do anything, but the word “monster” echoes through his brain again and the searing wave of hurt makes his choice for him. How dare Iwa-chan do this to him? How _dare_ he? “Fine, go then,” he says flatly. _Don’t go._ “You’ll be back.” _Please come back…_ “You’re nothing without me.” _I’m nothing without you._

“You’re right,” Iwaizumi answers. “I’ll be back. I’ll find a way to make you see sense, and if I can’t, then I’ll defeat you. I just can’t do it here.”

Oikawa scoffs. “You can’t beat me. You know I’m stronger than you are.”

“Maybe I can’t beat you on my own, but I’ll find friends. I’m not the only person in the kingdom who won’t stand for this anymore.”

Oikawa feels cold. Iwaizumi knows his weaknesses, every last one. He’s probably the only person in the world who even has a chance at defeating Oikawa. Oikawa needs to stop this, beg Iwaizumi to stay or destroy him before he gets away. But he can’t apologize- it’s gone too far for that. Oikawa’s broken something between them, something fundamental, and he doesn’t know how to even begin putting the pieces back together. And even if killing him is what makes most sense, what will preserve his power… He can’t. Hasn’t he just proven that? Demon King or not, monster or not, Oikawa Tooru can’t kill Iwaizumi Hajime. So he sits, frozen to his throne, with nothing to say or do, and watches Iwaizumi walk out of his life. His world shatters in silence.

Iwaizumi pauses once more, at the door. He turns back, green eyes piercing through red for what might be the last time. His voice is soft, and there’s something in it that Oikawa hasn’t heard since this fight started. “You’re not the man I love right now. I don’t know what happened to him or where he went, but I swear by all the gods that I’m going to find him and bring him back. I’ll bring _you_ back, Oikawa. I’m going to fix this, whatever it takes.” He hesitates in the doorway, clearly waiting for some sort of response, but all there is is dead, empty air and the echo of furious words. He turns again, and walks away. Oikawa watches him go, crimson gaze shell-shocked.

So he’s lost Iwaizumi. 

It’s not the first time he’s had to choose between something important to him and his dreams of power. Power’s always won in the past- he’s expected it to. But he’d never dreamed Iwaizumi would make him make this choice. And he’d never dreamed he’d choose this side.

Maybe he’s lost too much, this time. A part of him wonders if it’s not too late to chase Iwaizumi down. He could grovel, maybe. Give up his throne, even, if that’s what it would take for Hajime to take him back. But no, the line’s been drawn now, and the two of them are on opposite sides. He can feel the fissure between them growing by the second, turning into a chasm. If he tries to jump across it, he’ll only be swallowed up.

He’ll just have to make it worth it. He’ll gather more and more power, teach himself darker spells, leave nothing but utter subjugation in his wake. There’ll be no Iwaizumi preaching morals to distract him from his end goal- world domination. He’ll reach it faster than he ever dreamed, make himself into the god of this whole world. And when Iwaizumi returns, he’ll make him grovel. “You’re going to regret this, Iwa-chan,” he says to himself coldly, sitting up straighter in his throne, his mouth stretching into a shark’s smile. Maybe he’s made the right choice after all.

The throbbing emptiness in his chest tells him otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> Literally the only reason I could write this is because in my head it's a prequel to a long plot where they both end up super happy together and neither of them dies... If I hadn't had that in my head I probably would have made myself cry, so please feel free to take this official author's assurance that they totally end up happy in this AU in a nebulous future that I may or may not ever actually write.   
> I hope everyone enjoyed this fic! It's the first thing I've written in months and the first time I've ever written angst, but I hope it was a good read anyway. Come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hajimistletoe) if you want to! Merry Christmas to all and to all happy Iwaois!


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